Saturday, September 1, 2012

tonight

subordinate sub-drone
sending shockwaves through my nasal passages
that familiar K' Rd pizza-pussy stench
stretched and scathed skin along
rickety-textured footpaths
we're all in bright-warm Amber-orange here

I want dirt on my walls
under my nails
food stuck to my feet
I want immaculate cleanliness
and
immaculate timing. Immaculate
adrenaline through my veins
(the ran kind), signed -

I want to be chased by choice-danger
I want Hollywood movies made of me
I want drug-run order in the daytime
sleepy chaos at night
and another's head when it suits me.

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